


The Warden and the Pumpkin

by thewriterofperfectdisasters



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, fucking terrible title, i just need bucky to get w the man bun trend im sorry, im on the fence w this one tbh, kidfic kinda, kinda angsty?, kinda fluffy?, neither are fully developed bc it's 2am what is anything, parent/teacher AU, plot holes as far as the eye can see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 00:18:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5687293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewriterofperfectdisasters/pseuds/thewriterofperfectdisasters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘You know I gotta be home by midnight, Steve.’<br/>‘Why though? Will you turn into a pumpkin or something if you’re not?’<br/>‘Cinderella didn’t turn into the pumpkin,’ Bucky said, raising an eyebrow, before turning his attention to patting down his pockets for a hair tie. ‘You’re a teacher, right? How do you not know that?’<br/>Steve blinked, as a smile spread slowly across his face. ‘Are you saying you’re Cinderella?’<br/>‘Yes.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Warden and the Pumpkin

**Author's Note:**

> you'll have to excuse me - i haven't written anything for almost a month, and this is my first thing for marvel and co., so... hi hello and please be nice omg it's like 2am and i was writing this yesterday at 2am too and my title game is not on point.
> 
> also - if they're a bit ooc it's probably bc i'm still stuck in the speech style of a certain pairing from a certain show i'm very bitter about (*cough* shameless) and this is adapted from a WIP i had going for that fandom so... apologies again.
> 
> honestly - formal apology. this is so bad.

‘Are you sure you can’t stay?’ Steve asked, tightening his arms around the other man’s waist, after just having heard the dreaded, _“I should get home.”_

‘Yes,’ Bucky replied, gently peeling Steve’s arms off him and sitting up on the side of the bed to pull his jeans on, up off the floor. ‘Why do you keep asking? You know I’m gonna say it.’

Steve sighed and propped himself up on one elbow to watch Bucky gather his clothes from around the bedroom. ‘Yeah, but I’m hoping one day I’ll ask and you’ll say, _“Sure, why not?”_ and sleep over.’

‘And how likely do you think that is to happen?’

Steve huffed and rolled his eyes. ‘Well, now you’ve said _that_ , I feel like it’ll never happen.’

‘Probably right,’ Bucky shrugged, pulling his t-shirt on over his head and absentmindedly running his hand through his hair to get it out of his face. ‘You know I gotta be home by midnight, Steve.’

‘Why though? Will you turn into a pumpkin or something if you’re not?’

‘Cinderella didn’t turn into the pumpkin,’ Bucky said, raising an eyebrow, before turning his attention to patting down his pockets for a hair tie. ‘You’re a teacher, right? How do you not know that?’

Steve blinked, as a smile spread slowly across his face. ‘Are you saying you’re Cinderella?’

‘Yes.’

‘A princess.’

Bucky tilted his head and smiled slightly. ‘You saying I’m not a princess?’

‘Oh, no. No, absolutely not. You’re a very pretty princess.’

‘Damn right,’ Bucky nodded, finally finding his elastic and pulling his hair up into a small, quick bun.

Steve sighed and gave Bucky a hopeful look. ‘It’s only ten to, though. Sure you can’t stay for another round?’

‘What time do you have to be at ye ol’ gaol tomorrow?’

‘They’re children,’ Steve said. ‘I’m a teacher, not a warden.’

‘Mhmm, okay,’ Bucky yawned. ‘I really gotta go. My roommate will have my ass if I’m back late.’

‘I can’t believe you let your roommate dictate your life.’

‘Trust me, if you met her, you’d know why. She can be scary.’

Steve grinned. ‘Yeah, yeah. You really need to stay sometime though. We’ve been at this for nearly five months and you’ve always gone home. I’m starting to think you have a secret family I don’t know about.’

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Yeah. “My roommate will have my ass” could easily be code.’

‘Mhmm,’ Bucky pulled his boots on and sat on the bed to run his fingers fondly through Steve’s hair. ‘I promise I don’t have a secret family.’

Steve leant into the touch and sighed deeply. ‘Yeah, okay. Text me when you get home.’

Bucky kissed Steve’s hair and stood to leave the room. ‘I will.’

‘Thanks. Drive safe.’

Bucky smiled and nodded, and left the room, leaving the door cracked open just the way Steve liked.

A few moments later, Steve heard his front door click gently shut, and the lock be turned. About ten minutes after that (because Steve had stayed awake, obviously), he got a text.

**_Text From: Bucky [00:09]  
_ ** _im home. feel better?_

**_Text Sent: Bucky [00:10]  
_ ** _yes :) sleep well_

**_Text From: Bucky [00:10]  
_ ** _u too_

**_Text Sent: Bucky [00:11]  
_ ** _sleep better w u here… :)_

**_Text From: Bucky [00:11]  
_ ** _too late. go to sleep._

**_Text Sent: Bucky [00:12]  
_ ** _fiiiine. night xx_

_  
_

* * *

  


In hindsight, had Bucky stayed over, Steve would’ve been slightly more screwed than he already was – and not in the good way. He could feel his eyelids drooping as he directed his class in their day-to-day activities, and the suspicious gaze of a few of his more keen-sighted students on him.

He would have to make sure that the first time Bucky stayed over was during the weekend. He didn’t know if he would survive a day of work after being kept up, enthusiastically exercising _certain_ muscles until three in the morning. (Was that being hopeful? Probably.) (On the other hand…)

As a fun bonus that Steve found himself despising his job for, not for the first time either, it was parent-teacher interview night. His list for the night consisted of only about half his class, but that was still half a class more than he really wanted to talk with. Make no mistake – Steve loved his job, and his class, he did. He just loved it less on five hours sleep and missing his daily caffeine intake.

  


* * *

  


Steve might’ve dozed off during certain parts of certain interviews. He was sort of thankful for the parents who wanted to tell _him_ how well their children were doing, like, yeah, okay, he wasn’t the one who had been _teaching_ them, right? They were absorbing it through osmosis or something. His knowledge was water, and his students were all tiny little plants, growing and blooming and…

That was probably a terrible analogy. No doubt someone would interpret that wrong.

As Steve’s list of names to see grew shorter and shorter, the parents got more and more self-righteous. (“We know we didn’t need to see you, because our darling pumpkin is doing _so_ well, but we’re worried her reading level isn’t as high as it should be… Should she still be at an eleven year old level?”) (“Ma’am, your daughter is eight, I think she’s doing perfectly fine for her age.”) (“Yes, but are you _sure_?”)

All Steve wanted to do was go home and break out some calming ‘40s big band music while he heated up some package of processed crap in his microwave. The fresh vegetables and meat in his fridge could forgive him for ignoring them for _one_ day.

Finally his list was at one name, and Steve was so ready for this whole show to be over. He perked up when he saw the last name on his list.

Isidora Romanov was one of his favourite students, and he knew she would politely, yet firmly, tell him to stop being so sleepy, so he fixed his tie, and rubbed his eyes, yawning as he heard the door open.

‘Hi, Mr Rogers!’ Isidora said loudly from the entrance to his classroom. ‘I got you something.’

Steve turned around and stood up, giving an easy grin as he saw the paper cup in her hand. ‘Remind me tomorrow to give you two gold stars for this.’

‘Three and we’ll call it a deal,’ she said, shaking her red waves from in front of her eyes. ‘Otherwise, it’s mine.’

‘Three stars it is.’

‘Can I put them on now?’ she asked, handing him the cup and backtracking slowly towards his desk.

‘Yeah, sure. Top drawer. _Only_ three.’

‘She’s not conning you into anything, is she?’ a new voice asked from the doorway.

Steve frowned at the familiarity and moved his gaze to where Bucky was leaning against the doorjam. ‘Bu…’ _Don’t let Isidora in on what you’ve been doing to her father._ ‘Mr Romanov.’

‘Barnes,’ Bucky corrected, entering the room and closing the door. ‘Romanov is her mother’s name.’

‘You’re her father?’ Steve asked, looking for confirmation between the girl (who had definitely put more than three gold stars onto her chart, but at this point, Steve could only direct his attention to one problem at a time) and his… exclusive fuckbuddy?

‘Yeah, I wouldn’t have come, but Nat had work tonight,’ Bucky said, giving a small smile. ‘I kinda lied about the secret family thing.’

‘Right, yeah,’ Steve nodded, taking a sip of the drink in his cup to hide the hurt etching itself across his features. The coffee was good, though, and helped distract him from the words flying through his mind at that moment. Perfect temperature, black coffee with one sugar and milk – just the way he liked.

‘Good coffee?’

‘Yeah, thanks,’ Steve nodded. ‘Ah, so…’ he flicked his eyes meaningfully to Isidora (now putting the sheet of stickers back in his drawer) and to Bucky. ‘You and your… wife? Are things..?’

‘Complicated.’

Steve nodded and cleared his throat. He’d get to the bottom of this, but now was not exactly the ideal time to do so. He gestured to the seats around the table he had made his station for the night. ‘So, Isidora,’ he said, keeping his voice steady and turning to the matter at hand, as father and daughter sat across from him. ‘She’s doing very well, but I assume you know that. Her performance across the board is outdoing many of her classmates, and I’m very pleased with how she’s progressing.’

‘How’s her social behaviour?’ Bucky asked. ‘Her mother and I… well. _I_ have a few concerns.’

Isidora rolled her eyes and huffed at her father. ‘It was just _one_ little punch, Dad.’

‘That’s what concerns me.’ Bucky turned to Steve. ‘It’s not a regular occurrence, is it?’

‘No, no,’ Steve assured him. ‘And the boy was perfectly fine, there was just a lot of blood and I think it scared him and his friends.’

‘How much is a lot of blood?’

‘Well, it was on most of his shirt.’

‘Isidora Sofia Romanov,’ Bucky said, taking a deep breath. ‘When we get home, I’m gonna have your mother give you a speech about punching people.’

‘Mom would be proud,’ Isidora said, crossing her arms and glaring at Bucky. ‘She’ll just tell me how to break his nose next time.’

‘What was he even _doing_?’

‘Uh, he was firing spitballs at one of their classmates,’ Steve jumped in. ‘She was having some difficulty breathing after something set off her asthma.’

‘Ah,’ Bucky nodded. ‘So he deserved it, then?’

‘Yep,’ Isidora chirped. ‘Mom always says to stand up to bullies.’

‘No, _I_ say that. Mom says hit people first, ask questions later,’ Bucky smiled apologetically to Steve. ‘I swear we’re good parents.’

‘Well, one of you keeps secrets, and the other I haven’t met,’ Steve said, before he could stop himself. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, you’re right,’ Bucky agreed. ‘I, ah. I’ll…’

‘Yeah, you do that,’ Steve said, getting the jist of what Bucky was trying to say. ‘That’s pretty much all there is to it.’

‘So, Iz is doing good?’ Bucky asked, standing to leave.

‘Yeah, she’s doing good.’

‘Okay,’ Bucky smiled, and tapped his daughter on the shoulder. ‘Time to go, kid.’

Isidora narrowed her eyes in thought for a moment, before she declared, ‘I have to pee. Stay here,’ and promptly left her father behind in the classroom.

Bucky watched after her and cleared his throat, turning back to Steve. ‘She just gave us a moment. She’ll be outside.’

Steve nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘So you have a secret family.’

‘I don’t have a secret family.’

‘Well, that’s your daughter, and you live with her mother. Kinda sounds like a secret family.’

‘It’s not what you think, Steve –’

‘Oh? How so?’

‘I… Natasha is my best friend,’ Bucky said, speaking quietly to avoid Isidora hearing outside. ‘We’re nothing more than that. We didn’t even intend to co-parent, but we’re nothing more. She wanted a kid, and she wanted me to be the father. That’s what this is.’

‘Why?’

‘My outstanding genetics, clearly,’ Bucky rolled his eyes. ‘I guess she didn’t want some random person she picked out of a book to be the father.’

‘So you and her..?’

‘Are you asking if I stuck it in my best friend? Hell no. IVF, Steve.’

‘Oh.’ Steve supposed that made sense. ‘Still lied to me, though.’

‘I’ve had a lot of people split on me after finding out about Iz. Seemed easier to just not mention her and Nat,’ Bucky shrugged. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay,’ Steve nodded. ‘I’m guessing you can’t be out after midnight because Isidora’s mom doesn’t want you to wake her up?’

‘Yeah, even though there’s some weird paternal instinct telling me not to wake her, too.’

‘Something that kicks in after you have kids, I think.’

‘Yeah,’ Bucky said softly. ‘Anyway, I should go. Have a good night, Steve.’

‘I can think of something that would make it better,’ Steve said quietly.

Bucky paused at the door and turned slowly back to the other man as he took the hint. ‘Does this mean I’m forgiven?’

Steve nodded. ‘I get it.’

‘ _You_ don’t have a secret family, too, do you?’

Steve laughed, and it was like music to Bucky’s ears. ‘No, I don’t. I get why you would stay mum about the whole thing.’

Bucky smiled. ‘I’ll be at your place tomorrow at eight.’

‘Not tonight?’ _Damn, Steve, that doesn’t sound desperate at_ all.

‘Can’t. Nat’s working.’

‘Oh, right. Tomorrow at eight, then.’

‘I’ll even cook as an apology,’ Bucky offered.

Steve nodded and gave Bucky a small smile. ‘Sounds perfect, Buck.’

**Author's Note:**

> uh right also isidora is the name of one of my dogs... i was pressed for time/ideas.  
> i'm on tumblr at [grumpypunkbucky](http://grumpypunkbucky.tumblr.com) if you need anything


End file.
